Dare me
by TopazSoarhire
Summary: Zukie isn't just a fish out of water, she’s a fish at a 300ft and accelerating! A new school, a new lifestyle, a new country! This Aussie has the Dragon’s Gift :the dragon had no choice in the matter: and a wand with a thing for pumpkins
1. Anywhere Is

**Anywhere Is**

**Chapter 1**

**_Pumpkin Scones_**

"H-hey! Wait up!" I called, spinning wildly and searching the crowd over the stack of books. I hated shopping in the most ordinary of circumstances, just looking at all the people and places made me tired and edgy, but when confronted with the advertisement exclaiming in pulsing neon; "BUY TWO SCOOPS OF NEWTS EYES, GET THE THIRD SCOOP FREE!" it transformed droopy eyelids into a heart pumping experience.

This made me angrier, berating myself for being such a country hick but I was not just a fish out of water, I was a fish plunging from an altitude of three hundred feet and accelerating. It wasn't just a new school. It wasn't just a new experience. It was a whole new country, and a stupid one at that.

I had spent the night at a small inn, The Leaky Cauldron. The room was nice enough and had a cottage feel to it but after witnessing a patron belch thick plume of green smoke I limited my menu to sausages and water. Being apart of a family who thought that if you didn't have to trek a kilometre up the road for fresh water, it wasn't a proper camping trip meant it was positively swanky.

Luckily, as always, people found an accent charming and being short was adorable. It greased the axils when my mouth worked without consulting my brain.

"Come on, you must have seen something!" I pleaded.

"_No_," a gravelly voice grunted.

"What do you mean no? You can turn your head two hundred degrees!"

"_No,"_ it repeated.

I wanted to throw my hands up in exasperation but that would mean throwing down the dozen thick textbooks volumes that obscured my sight. The street seemed to be filled with floating heads, but that wouldn't have been out of the ordinary as it was also filled with goblins, kobolds, witches and wizards. It was my own stupid fault, something shiny had glittered out of the corner of my eye and I had followed it. Next thing I knew Chrys, my guide, had been swallowed up by the kids finishing their own preparations for the new school year.

It was a school with a difference, just as this was a street with a difference. Diagon Alley, the one stop shop for all your witchcraft and wizardry needs.

"Chrys! Chrys!" I yelled, trying to be heard above the throng. That was exactly the word for it. Never in my life did I think anyone could apply the word throng to anything in everyday conversation but there you had it, _throng. _"CAAAAH-RIIIIIIIS!"

"Hallo." I wheeled around again as a finger tapped me gently on the shoulder. I looked up into the face of a well-meaning expression, and a lot of bright red hair. It was a Big Kid. "Are you looking for Chrysanthemum Mitt?"

I hesitated. How many other people could possibly have the name Chrysanthemum? "Yeah."

"She just went into Ollivander's." A blank stare. He sighed and looked down the street after a small mob of retreating heads, all with the same flaming hair and then pointed up the street. "Ollivander's is a wand shop. You are a Hogwarts First year, aren't you?" There was the usual look of doubt as looked me up and down, or at least down and further down.

"Wand?" I asked uncertainly, and then catching myself, blustered, "Yuhuh!" I puffed out my chest like a rooster and he smirked at me.

"Down the road on the left with a big burgundy sign, you can't miss it."

"Charlie!" A rosy faced woman with a little girl in tow burst from the crowd and waved irritably at him.

"Good luck." The Big Kid winked and followed his mother, disappearing amongst the crowds again. I watched him curiously until he was out of sight and then tottered until I found the shop. It looked little more than a walk in wardrobe from the outside, the paint was not so much dulled by time as it was tarnished and had the look of a gothic library found in storybooks that was there one day and gone the next. The scaling gold paint proclaimed it, "Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC!"

Pushing through the threadbare curtains I was suddenly gripped by both shoulders, peering up someone's nostrils!

I yelped and tried to struggle backwards l recognized the heart shaped face of Chrys, her pale caramel hair floated around her head in a thick curly nimbus. Her ever fluttering hands scooped up her books and set them beside the doorway and settled reproachfully on her hips. "Gee, Zukie! You scared me to death! Where'd you go? It doesn't matter. Mr Ollivander has been waiting patiently for ages and he isn't the kind of man who has time to wait-" The dust stood testimony to otherwise but for once I wisely stood silent letting Chrys's usual tide of rhetorical questions pour over me. "-and he is a very important wizard!"

The tall, willowy 18 year old obviously tried what she thought was a comforting smile and propelled me down one of the scrunched together aisles. I tried to glimpse what was stacked on them as I went past but they were all kept in narrow boxes. Some velvet clad, some of wood, others of polished mica or feldspar. All were lovingly placed to be a complete pickle to anyone but them.

All my inner instincts of 11 year old curiosity and the slow blossoming of teenage rebellion demanded that I should step suddenly to the side and let Chrys stumble forward while I yanked out the bottom of the stack but the aisle suddenly opened up into a small alcove.

"What the?" I stammered, blinking in the dim, flickering torchlight. I looked back down the aisle where a pinpoint of light could only be the other end. _An optical illusion,_ logic scolded, but it was lucky I had only the most tenuous of grips on reality even before receiving my invitation.

Turning experimentally back to the alcove it was then I noticed two very important things. The first was the silence, the kind of silence found in old houses, libraries and caves, the kind that was more of a vacuum and made you want to whisper. My accent sounded course and uncouth.

The second was a gaunt silhouette hanging in the corner like a spider. Pale mirror silver eyes were gauging me. I stared back even though I knew it wasn't a challenging stare but one of evaluation. I was your typical short person, you found them everywhere, but more often in younger siblings who wouldn't stand down from any fight, even if it meant being sat on and turned into a Frisbee. My eyes watered until finally I reluctantly looked away and the robed man stepped into the torchlight.

"Muggle born, is she?"

I bridled. It sounded like some sort of swear word. "Am not!" The misty eyes narrowed disapprovingly.

"You are, Zu- ah, Miss Kendrick," intercepted Chrys anxiously. "A muggle is a person who doesn't have any magic in them."

"That's a stupid word," ran my mouth.

The eyes narrowed further. They roved over my body, over thick, brown hair the colour of black mud bound in a high tail. They locked for another moment on my muddy brown eyes, or what could be seen of them between the scruffy thatches of my fringe. Lower over a body that didn't have the usual curves for those of female persuasion and finally seemed to take personal offence at the olive tanned, unusually muscular calves poking from beneath my rattiest pair of shorts, all in a moment.

He sniffed. "These wands aren't like those used in fairy tales, no pretty little star on top. Each wand is specifically chosen for the wizard, or to be more accurate, the wand chooses the wizard." The eerie silver eyes warmed a little as he saw the spark of interest and he strayed back onto well trodden roads of conversation. He absently pulled a measuring tape from his pocket, not unlike the one from my father's tool box but instead of faded black numerals was strange silver markings, ones I vaguely put in the category of glyphs and runes were etched in silver.

I flinched as he stretched his long pallid fingers towards me while he went on speaking, scooping up Flynn from my shoulder and putting him on a bench. He measured various lengths, head circumference, arm length, finger length, leg length, even felt across her head and probing the lump just above and behind her ear from the time I fell out of the tree when I was eight. Only when it started doing really weird things, like the distance between my belly button and her sternum did he let go, the tape zipping around on its own and little silver scrawls appearing with a flash along its length

He sidled away behind shelf, continuing as if rehearsed. "Every wand sold is unique! There are no two wands of the same length, material, diameter or core-"

"Core," I mumbled, watching with eyes crossed as the tape tried to measure the size of my nostrils but I kept shrinking away.

"Yes!" he said triumphantly, returning with a few boxing tucked under his armpit. "Every wand I make has a very magical core! Dragon's heartstring, phoenix feathers, manticore sting! Maple, elm, holly or willow! No two are the same! Here, take this." He pressed a slender piece of wood into her hand. "Unicorn hair and Jacaranda wood, good for transfiguration, very sturdy."

I rolled it in my fingers and glanced questioningly at Chrys standing behind him and miming frantically that I should wave it. I stared back as if she was so far out of her mind the two only had contact via semaphore until Mr Ollivander did the same thing.

Shrugging I gave it a flick, leaning away from it. Expecting a loud bang and streams of confetti, I was disappointed. Not even a few rudimentary glitters. Frowning I lifted it up to my eye and was about to give it another shake when Mr Ollivander snatched it hastily away and stuck another one in its place, beech I thought. I swung it again, and again, and again. What began as a nice row of discarded wands atop a rickety bench soon became strewn with two dozen boxes in an untidy pile.

I too was no longer in the mood for delicate flutters each time another wand was thrust into my hand, they were savage swings, like a lizard's tail thrashing around without a fizzle. What was more, the old coot seemed to delight in pawing through the boxes. Suddenly, when the pile had grown to thrice as many, he stopped his cheerful bustling and came back to me, glaring at the rosewood wand and shaking it.

"Are you sure she's got magic in her blood?" He jabbed the question at Chrys like it was a pointy object.

She nodded earnestly. "There must be some. She has the Dragon's Gift."

His eyes then slid upwards to, after second, third and forth glances wasn't in fact an oversized dustbunny, but Flynn, who had fluttered up there after the bench became overcrowded. Again he glared at me as if I had called him something nasty and a crocodilian grin stretch across my features. "Not that the dragon had much choice in the matter," I said airily, bearing rather than flashing my teeth again.

"You have an accent don't you," he said with a devious gleam.

_Very observant,_ I wanted to sneer but settled with a nod. His pursed lips moved silently, trying to place where it was from. It wasn't any good looking at my appearance. I often found myself in an argument with my mates back home what nationality I was, knowing very well what I was, and things had come back so varied, from Thai to Maori to American Indian, the best they could settle on was _exotic_, but only because my features were more like an international convention than anything dignified as beautiful.

Finally, tripping over a few of the wand cases that had spilled onto the floor he scuttled like a spider behind a curtain and returned with one box, brushing the dust off it theatrically. Flipping open the case and offering the pale wand settled in purple silk, he smiled smugly.

"What is it," I demanded suspiciously.

"Its core if I remember correctly, and I do, is a Peng Feather and it's wood," he winked slyly at me, "Is _Eucalyptus_ _Microtheca_. Durable and provides clean magic, especially fire enchantments."

I stared quizzically at him, wondering just how he managed to get the words to _sound_ italicised. "That's a Coolabah Tree. No wonder they're good at fire magic, the things bloody explode in a bushfire with all the oil in 'em."

"Try it," he said silkily, if a little distasteful at my swearing. Taking a deep breath, out of the corner of my eye I could see Chrys do so in sympathy, and then pulled my arm back as if preparing to chuck it. Mr Ollivander tried to shout warning but not it time. I brought the slender but weighty wand down in a dramatic sweep and suddenly bright, gossamer tendrils burst from the wand and wrapped around the bench hidden beneath the mound of wands with a fizzling _Shhhfit_

The wands scattered across the floor with nothing left to support them as we three stared down in shock at the results.

"So, uh, Mr Ollivander, um, sir," I stammered with a sheepish grin, kicking bright orange chunk smearing seeds and pulp across the lacquered wood. "How do you feel about pumpkin scones?"

_Thanks for reading the first chapter, much obliged! I'm also writing this story in sync with my mate Articunokel. His is called Hogwarts, the Manticore's Sting. Its probably more serious than my own. This is an attempt to bring some fun into the OC characters, rather than lots of angst and romance. You can check out my OC Harry Potter site at www. /hogwarthopefuls just get rid of the spaces. If that doesn't work, check out my homepage. Good luck and see yis next time_

_Tez_


	2. Knock Knock Knockturn

**Carmabelle:** _Thanks heaps! The praise is much appreciated and I'm glad not to be labelled a Mary-Sue, especially by a writer such as yourself_

**_T__wisted Alyx: _**_Ahh, Twisted Alyx. I've been looking forward to more of your work too. Although my version may be more exciting from chapter to chapter, this has no goal at the end. My mate Articunokel is writing the version with the plot we devised. This may be a collection of antics because so few OC's I've read have really exploited the full amount of the Harry Potter world, sticking to the romance and angst parts. I'm sorry about Flynn, I thought the bit at the start about turning his head 200 degree's would alert to the fact he was at least owl like. This chapter isn't as action packed but informative. Glad you enjoy it._

**conquer the world using bunnie: **_This fiction takes place whilst Harry is Five, she's three years older than the Weasley twins. Hope to keep you along for the ride_

_Again, I'll advertise my mate, Articunokel's fic, Hogwarts: The Manticore's Sting. Same characters but with more drive. Another thing I'd like to advertise is my site. I love anything to do with otaku characters, and Harry Potter isn't any difference. Its called Hogwart Hopefuls and its at (remove the spaces) _

_www. geocities. com/ hogwarthopefuls _

_Come and have fun, submit bios and art and of course your Other Character Fictions!_

**Chapter 2**

**_Knock Knock Knockturn _**

I'm sure foreign and transfer students are pretty normal in any school, but I always got the feeling that it didn't really happen at Hogwarts. I had never seen it, I had only heard of it a couple of times before receiving my invitation, all because of this so called Dragon's Gift. This was even though I was always reminding people that the Dragon would have scrabbled and clawed and clung to it with its dear life. In fact it probably did.

I was 'bestowed' this talent when I was so young that as far as I was concerned, everyone could hear that next door pet cockatoo telling its owner where it could stuff the cracker. Everyone was woken up at dawn with the clamouring cries of galahs screaming "Are we there yet? Are we there yet?" Everyone knew chickens had enough trouble trying to remember what they were doing 20 seconds before hand without coming up with reasons as to why they should cross a road.

Of course adults never believed me when I tugged their shirt and told them that the lorikeets were picking on me. If they were in a good mood they would chuckle and say to any other adult within earshot with pride that I had a _remarkable_ imagination and would write fantasy novels one day. If they were in a bad mood they'd clip me upside the head and tell me not to tell tales. Because of this I was often ignored when I chatted to the local birdlife. Sick of being called a liar, even though I was a magnificent one, I didn't make a habit of talking to them. It wasn't as if they had anything interesting to say but it didn't stop me abus- I mean, using it when only absolutely necessary!

I guess it was like that when I was discovered.

I can only remember the more dramatic parts clearly but it started when my brother, some of our friends and I were playing 44 Home in one of Farmer Bucket's back paddocks. We braved the grumpy old man to play here because of the thick thorny brambles made hiding easy and chasing difficult, the perfect way to get dirty and scabby in the least amount of time which is the goal of any six year old.

I had been IT twice in a row for failing to tag another player before they all reached home and was on the verge of a hissy fit. Four players had already made it home and there was only one left for me to find. I wasn't concerned about cheating anymore and I asked a magpie I came to call Brutus over the years. He was an obnoxious bully that would take on a crow twice as big as he was. I always liked Brutus simply because we had so much in common.

I had no idea that we weren't the only ones exploring Farmer Bucket's thickly overgrown paddock. Scuffling through the bushes under the cover of invisibility was Professor Pedro Thistle. He too had the 'Dragon's Gift' (his was definitely a gift and would crow about it at the slightest excuse) and looked as like a tourist who insisted on living off the land, aka skinny, dehydrated and slightly sick. A fleecy brown beard attacked his face like an enraged animal and peppered hair was drawn back into fuzzy ponytail.

Like most adults he considered children acceptably insane and didn't think much of the little girl asking a plucked and glaring magpie where the last little boy was. What he didn't expect was for her to argue with it and than follow its instructions to the letter.

After following me home he must have chosen his moment carefully, picking a time when it was only my parents and I home. My brother, Scotty was staying at a friend's.

I can remember the crisp knock at the door and my mother hurrying from the kitchen to answer with me dogging her heels. A moment later my father turned up to see who it was for. The instant both my parents were standing together Pedro whipped out his wand and an icy turquoise bolt lanced from the end and shrouded my parents in a translucent envelope.

I screamed! Darting from behind the coffee table where I watched wearily I lunged at his legs, beating him with clenched fists and even managed to bite his skinny calf through a forest of wiry leg hair. With little more than a wince he grinned at me and swept me to nestle on his hip, tapping the wound with his wand.

It was then that I noticed that my parent's eyes, rather than becoming cloudy or glassy were instead very, very alert. My mother took me from Pedro and led him into the lounge room. There, while slurping down two cups of coffee and a lot of biscuits, he explained to my parents about the world beyond the norm, the one that included him, the world of witchcraft and wizardry, of dragons and unicorns.

My parents looked at all in calmly and critically, not just soaking it up like a sponge and mindlessly believing it. In retrospect I think the spell he used rather than opening the mind, it opened the eyes to other possibilities.

Too young to follow the conversation, I just assumed he was a very confused Jehovah's Witness in a glittery cape.

One point he came back to again and again was just how I had receive the Gift. My parents exchanged questioning looks and Pedro went on. The Dragon's Gift was the ability to understand the language of the birds. It was called the Dragon's Gift because the only way to receive it was to eat a dragon's heart. It wouldn't have affected a muggle so I must have had some magic sneaking through my veins like a drunk driving home through the back alleys to avoid being fined.

Finally after much probing a possible answer was found.

While on holidays in South Australia when I was two, my parents had put me down and took their eyes off me for a split second and they had lost me amongst the tall red boulders scattered around the desert. Five minutes later they found me in the shade of a monolith with a scaly tail sliding behind my grinning lips and down my throat. When I didn't immediately turn blue and start convulsing they assumed it was a harmless lizard and a free source of protein.

Then, in a round about way he broached the subject of my education, or at least the magical aspect. There was a 'school' of magic in Australia, Goofadder Academy. The problem was that it was more of a correspondence course. My mother spent her childhood learning via correspondence and said it was very limiting. "Zukie is antisocial enough, thankyou very much," she sniffed with a rebuking glance at my father who considered that being able to burp the alphabet was a necessary part of every kid's education.

The Ministry of Magic wasn't stupid and knew that Australia had its own selection of wizards and witches just as clever as their over sea's counterparts, but the problem was Australia itself. It was an ancient country and its layers of magic had been eroded away over millennia like valuable topsoil. It didn't have the thaumatic energy to support a school of any magnitude without it being noticeable to muggles.

My dad was always a forward thinker. He took the proverb _Live as if you'll die tomorrow, farm as if you'll live forever_ to heart. He immediately questioned him about suitable schools. Pedro beamed with pride and told him of his own schooling in the highly praised Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry that his own niece was attending. The only problem was that it was in England but if my parents agreed he was sure that he could weasel an invitation out of one of the councillors.

The promise was made and five years later on in early July I received a letter.

I waved goodbye to the girl I usually walked home with and grabbed the mail from the letterbox. Flipping through the junkmail and I fumbled with the key to get into the house I noticed a mopoke owl nestled high up in the gums but didn't pay it much attention.

Scott had soccer practice and my parent's worked. I looked forward to Friday's precisely for that reason, an arvie to myself to put my feet up on the lounge without being scolded and handle the remote without Scotty sitting on me to get it back. Scott may have been two years younger than me but he was as big for his age as I was short and it didn't matter how fiercely I resisted. It was just as well we didn't clash often.

Chucking the junk into the bin I was left with three envelopes, one an electricity bill that made me cringe, the next postcard from Uncle Lyle holidaying in New Zealand and the last a larger than average envelope made of thick card.

And it was addressed to me. I opened it, read it and threw it in with the rest of the junk.

Later when my parents returned they found the layers of paper filled with my invitation, booklist and instructions beneath a banana peal they did as they had been instructed ages ago. Dad gave me a sucker lollie and suddenly I felt accepting. In this state of suspended belief they coloured a vivid picture, even if it was sort of skewed. A world of witchcraft and wizardry, dragons and unicorns. And for the icing on the cake, Uncle Pedro wasn't my uncle, but a professor keeping an eye on me.

I didn't know what to think.

Okay, that wasn't true, I knew exactly what to think, I was going to zap Brendan Beal, the local brute, into oblivion piece by piece.

Slowly but surely the details were sorted out under the directions of Professor Thistle. His own niece, now in her seventh year, would help me buy my school supplies and help me settle in while in London. Even Scotty was in on the deal but his only contributions were bad witch and wizard jokes.

After a lot of begging and whining I was able to get at least one thing amongst my book and equipment lists, even if we did have to travel five hours to Brisbane's Chinatown.

A familiar.

We made the long trip to wizarding shop disguised as Zhuang Zi's Pet's Paradise at Pedro's direction in Brisbane's Chinatown. Four or five other kids were wandering amongst the cat's scratching posts and bird perches with their hands clapped over their ears. The moment the familiars saw me I was pummelled with cats yowling, little yellow cottonballs rumbling like plane propellers, strange marsupials with antlers, platypus's slapping cheerfully in the water and birds of every description screaming, "Oi! Oi! Me! Ove'reer! Oi!"

The list said I should choose an owl, cat or other small gentle creature which seemed appropriately witchy. Marching resolutely down the aisles amongst boobooks, mopokes, sooty owls, screech owls, barn owls, even a heavily moulting snowy owl but I was determined to have something distinctly Australian.

Finally I came across that perfect something. An ugly grey lump impersonating a tree stump. A Tawny Frogmouth. I was aware it wasn't exactly an owl, but the little bugger needed a fair go.

Within days I was flown, plane not broom, to London. To my surprise, Flynn's cage was sitting on the bedstand a gaudy gold thing that looked like Tweety Bird's as Aussie Customs would have had a field day with him. While he glared between the bars, he immediately demanded a cicada and told me the service was lousy.

A little more than a thousand dollars were converted by a bank with Chrys's help while she tried to explain the conversion rate. I wanted someone to point out the basics of the metric system to these people and wondered why they were considered more advanced than we poor non-magical folk. I mean really, what bright spark chose random prime numbers as a base?

It wasn't a lot, and I tried to pick up second hand where ever I could. When choosing robes it turned into a costume rather than the uniform of the world's most respected wizarding school. I had picked up four robes, all at least one size too big despite Madam Maulkin's best attempts. No matter how she tried she couldn't stop it looking baggy, a little frayed and in the end I just hitched it up with very unmagical but very effective nappy pins.

And that was it, I was ready for everything the magical world could throw at me…. most things…some….. a few….

After ticking off the last of my booklist and stuffing them in my room, Chrys begged leave to meet some of her friends we'd met while we were down town. I shrugged nonchalantly while inside I was begging for time to myself to explore, one nook in particular that Chrys had warned me away from. Why adults didn't realise the irresistible attraction of the forbidden was amazing but they learnt quickly when dealing with me.

"No worries," I assured coolly, letting my stunted legs swing up onto the bed and picked casually at a scab. "I'm tired anyway. I hate tow- I mean cities."

"Oh, that's too bad," she said with disappointment dripping off it. I didn't blame her, having to watch a little kid was no way to spend the last of your holidays and she had put up a brave front. After another halfarsed attempt to try and get me outside she smiled vapidly and hurried out the door leaving it wide open. "If you need us we'll be at the ice cream parlour."

_Par-lour_, I snorted sarcastically. What kind of word was that? I waited nonchalantly for a few more minutes, thumbing through the slightly foxed second-hand volume of The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1). After what happened in the wand shop I wasn't game to try any, or at least in an enclosed place where I couldn't make a decent getaway, but my devious mind was already cooking up delicious possibilities. I chuckled as I dog-eared a page over that would make the saying 'to swear blue thunder' so much more interesting.

Through the open door another patron strolled past and down the stairs to the main bit of the pub. Customers which trickled in and out at various times of the day but the universal deluge started after five o'clock. The Leaky Cauldron wasn't just for wizards but if you didn't know it was there you found your eyes kind of slipping off it, like a greased shed roof to the record or book shops on either side.

Sauntering down the stairs I now considered the difficult part. Tom. He was a nice enough bloke, knobbly and skinny like a red gum without good water. He squinted cheerfully over his crooked nose and pestered warmly to try wizard food. He had a nostalgic grin as he said so, fair enough as he was quite a few teeth short of a full set.

He also watched me like a cat, partly because of the warm paternal concern he radiated and partly because Pedro slipped him a twenty, or the equivalent of. The way to Diagon Alley from the backstreets of London was through a strangled courtyard hidden behind the pub. The entrance thus was behind the bar as Tom shuttled back and forth with frothing mugs and a crusty eye vigilant for trouble makers, ie, anyone under the age of 30.

Sitting on the bottom step with my chin resting on my knuckles, resting on my knees I was camouflaged by the forest of legs and the height of the bar. The plan was to squirm through into the courtyard when Tom ushered in the next boisterous crowd from Diagon Alley. I crawled closer and pressed against the bar so Tom wouldn't see unless he leaned right over. Impatient cries and rapping on the door meant more were about to pour in, now I only had to have a distraction so he wouldn't notice the little brown head bobbing in the opposite direction.

Gingerly I withdrew my wand, a snug weight reaching out of my pocket and looked for an opening in the legs milling around. I stared at it knowing full well I was going to make an arse of myself. I didn't know how but I always did. It was a stick, there wasn't much to it then giving it a wave and making sure your incantation rhymed, right? That's how cartoons did it.

_Great Zuks, you're taking advice from what? Cinderella? It would explain the pumpkins…._

"Shut up," I muttered and screwed my eyes shut with the wand pointed at the gap next to the jukebox. "Uh. Fuzzy wuzzy was a bear, make a really good distraction over there!"

When there was no hush or excited cries, I opened one eye and then the other. Nothing, the Brits just wandered around amiably, probably mistaking me for another person's bratty kid with a stick playing make believe. "Work damnit! Wor-!" In mid-sentence and mid-flick the wand bucked from my hand and something exploded across the room just as Tom opened the door.

"What the blazes!" he yelped, scrambling from behind the counter with a dripping towel. "Ow of der way! Ow of der way!"

I took my chance and squirmed between the mob coming in from the courtyard pushing forward to see what all the fuss was about. Just as I got through I peered through the gap to see what kind of mischief I'd made and stifled a snigger as Tom and a not so jolly fat man were stamping out the remains of a flaming pumpkin.

"Awright," he panted just as the door closed. "Which ever of yous didn't use their safety spell is lucky I'm outta veggies!"

I strolled easily amongst the winding streets of Diagon Alley as the lamps, actual kerosene lamps, ignited and cast a glow in the twilight. One leg swung lazily in front of the other over the cobbles without worrying if I was going to be crushed or stepped on or butted into the gutter. Most of the rush was gone and the crowds travelled at a more languid pace, pausing for window shopping or chatting with a mate they happened to meet.

I smiled, stuffing my hands in my pockets with my wand. I was more then a little anxious that it might go off accidentally and turn my legs into a fruit at any moment but the new term started in only two days so I was optimistic. Why, who knew. Maybe my subconscious was taking talleys that I _could_ do it in two days and it was an odd's on bet.

After a little while I stumbled on the little offshoot from the main street. The sign pointing to it was smudged and had the same sight-sliding quality as the Cauldron, the paint seemed to peal purposefully away from the sign making it difficult to read in the twilight. The only light from shining down the squalid alley were the rectangular patches seeping through grimy unwashed windows.

The longer I stared down it, I grew increasingly unsure I became of actually going down for a squiz. The sign creaking in a draught just inside selling poison candles made my mouth dry up. What else was in there? Probably one of those mysterious Arabian stores, there one day, gone the next…. Maybe they could sell me a monkey paw?

The prospect of three wishes sealed the deal and I swaggered inside, feeling a little more comfortable then I did in the open. I patted my pocket making the few coins inside jangle and I wondered if it would be enough. The silence sucked the sound right up and nervousness was rising in my throat, making me jumpy. I was an edgy person by nature and anyone who tapped me on the shoulder found out quick as a panicky fist swung round to greet them.

My eyes growing accustomed to the lack of light I was able to make out more signs, strange weaponry, a library with a grungy look to it and a second hand shop bearing the unmistakable symbol of the gnarled Hand of Glory. I hesitated and cast a longing look back down the narrow passage were a street lamp beckoned warmly. The Hand of Glory was the hand of an innocent man hanged and if a candle was made by the fat of the hanged man was placed inside its death grip it would light the world only for them.

_Don't be a wuss, what could happen? These people are wizards!_ For some reason my mind tried to make believe there was a connection between wizard and safety to urge me on. As I approached the door it swung open, a thick splintery grey covered with heavy rusty red bolts that screeched as it turned on tortured hinges. It was your usual squeaky hinge, someone had worked hard to get it sounding like a cat with its tail in a toaster.

What it revealed was another dingy and dimly lit store that was no different from any other knickknack store. Items sat on rickety tables laid over with unbelievably white tablecloths impossible for all the dust that had accumulated around the base of the table legs and across the knotted wooden floor like a carpet. It couldn't be swept, only distributed more evenly. There was more furniture, instruments and even a grand piano shrouded under another ghostly white sheet. Heavy shelves possibly made of polished rosewood lined the walls filled with books. Although these looked second hand too, they were also in impeccable condition. As I strolled in I rolled my head onto my shoulder to try and read the spines only to have them in strange languages, some even scrawled in Aramaic characters or hieroglyphs! Behind a grimy cabinet set and tantalus I spotted the counter, unmanned which also housed lots and lots of glittery jewellery.

"May I help you?"

"Gahh!" I jumped back, jimmying a table and, prepared to hurl the crookedly carved statue resembling a potbellied man. Without a sound this man had appeared behind me, who could have been an animated skeleton for all I knew. The flesh of his cheeks was pitted and pockmarked, sunken against the highly prominent cheek bones. His eyes were more like marbles, balancing on the rim of his sockets giving him an expression of permanent surprise. Carefully setting down the statue I realized this fella was the owner. "Geeze mate! Don't sneak up on a chick like that!"

His features shuffled a little to become distaste. It was like watching a Mr Potatohead. "Were you interested in the Idol of Tarukamún? Give it as a gift to your enemy and their life will enter a gentle downward spiral they will never suspect!" His sallow expression rearranged into mirth.

"Uh, that's nice," I said uneasily, shambling away and putting the table between myself and Ol'mate.

"Perhaps a nice _girl_ such as yourself would like to view a few of these items?" He hobbled over to counter, weaving around an object on a pedestal. Cutting wide of it myself, I glanced and inhaled sharply. "That's the Hand of Glory!"

"_A_ Hand of Glory," he said smugly, positioning himself behind the counter. "We have a variety of sizes in the store room if you care to look? Candles are extra."

"Eww, gawd no!" I leaned closer, its waxy pallor made me sure it was no more than plastic, but in the dirty yellow light I was astonished to find the nails were slightly chewed and something gross oozing from the hessian tied around the base. I poked it, and I recoiled with a gasp as the fingers, splayed rictuses, quickly clenched tightly closed like anemone tentacles. Watching by the glass counter, they slowly unfurled again. "Whoa."

"All our stoke is genuine, Miss, now," he delicately relieved a very life like dummy's head of a sparkling diamond studded necklace, touching it as little as possible and swept his had along the counter at the merchandise below, mostly gaudy and gem encrusted. "The jewellery is deadly."

I pressed my hands against the glass, leaning over it with my nose smeared over the surface to get away from the reflection. "You're telling me! Like this one time I came back from this stupid christening, and the Cumberling's invited me over to play, 'cept I didn't take off this stupid necklace mum made me wear. So I was climbing and as I jumped to get to another branch the necklace snagged a stupid branch. Matty said my eyes bulged like this and my face was going all blue!" I looked up from my lively pantomime. "Lucky thing it broke, huh?"

"Yes. Lucky you." The features shuffled to irony. He sighed a little, putting the necklace back and said as impolitely as he dared, "So, Miss, what is your price range?"

I stuffed my hand in my pocket and dumped the lot on the counter. "This!"

The owner retrieved a gnawed pencil from behind his ear and shifted the pile of copper, silver and gold coins with it like they carried something contagious. His eyes searched the room with the faintest of desperation showing on his stretched cheeks. I turned indignant. If he didn't want a customer, he could go right on being rude! He stalked to one of the shelves and returned with a tiny black book like one of those pocket bibles they give out for free. _Zolar's Almanac _wasinscribed on the front in curly gold leaf.

"This is the exact right amount for this," he said tartly. He used the pencil to sweep the coins into a tray. "Look at the time, closing is upon us already."

He ushered me out the big heavy door and shut it quickly behind me.

"Fine!" I muttered, nose turned up huffily and stuffed the midget book into my pocket. "Be that way! Your stupid hand was mouldy!"

I had taken no more then three steps when a hand gripped my shoulder.

I let out a strangled yell! Pivoting on one foot with the fist already in motion aimed for cheek height! The shadowy form was prepared for it and stepped back, shoving hard on the passing shoulder and helping me into a wild revolution into the crumbling brick wall, nose first. I grunted, feeling the first blood trickle from a cut over the bridge and tried to face the culprit.

"Dead!" I gulped angrily trying to overcome the shock.

"Who?" a male voice sniggered pressing a huge hand into the hollow of my back to prevent me from twisting out beneath him. "Us or you? Does she look like a pureblood to you?"

"Nup, but would a mudblood be stupid enough to come down Knockturn Alley all on his little lonesome?" said another with the inquiring tone I knew all to well. It always began the sentence "What do you think will happen if I do this?" usually when it came to insects and the necessity of wings. More feet shuffled and chuckled. There were more. How many? It was not like I was figuring out if I could take them, like all short people I had already made the choice that I could and I would, regardless of the fact they could sit on me and use me as a Frisbee. I stopped struggling against the hand and wisely stayed still, letting the anger smoulder so I could think, an uncommon trait amongst the vertically retarded.

"What deya want?" I growled, turning my head to make out the heads of teenagers, maybe four years older than me.

"He has an accent," squeaked one from the back, bouncing to see over the heads.

"Very observant! I'm a girl you morons!" An open palm smacked upwards at the nape of the neck, the point of least resistance and drove my forehead into the wall. Small reddish chunks embedded in it but luckily the fringe saved me from most hurt. As the blood from my nose beaded and ran down my nose I realised with worry that I was dealing with scholars in pain. My breath coming out in loud wheezes, restricted by the wall was relieved as they yanked me into the middle of the circle. Six, including the first speaker and the little one heads loomed around me, bits of their face highlighted by the window light of the second hand store

With the light on it occurred to me that I could yell for help, but stubbornness forbade me. I knew I couldn't handle it all on my own but against my own better judgement I lived by the saying that if you couldn't stand on your own two feet, you may as well lie down.

The first voice, spoke again, this time cautiously. Tallish with hair cropped about his ears, dark and slicked against his skull. A sharp pointed nose leant a foxy appearance to his features. He hadn't bet on me being a girl and there wasn't a lot of glory in kicking the crap out of her. "You're tiny, are you really a Hogwart's student?"

"Yeah! And whatcha you gonna do about it?" This caught me entirely by surprise, going straight to the lips without any advice from the brain. This commonly used sentence rated right up there with 'it can't possibly get any worse.' A death wish if ever there was one.

"They're letting foreign muck into our schools now!" hissed a girl from behind me, kicking above the calf into the knee and the leg crumpled leaving me unsteady. Another from the other side shoved me and I landed on my knees, hard. Trying not to look directly into the light to keep my night vision I wiped away the blood that had dribbled over my lips and under my eyelid. "First those Europeans, then those _American's_, now this thing. What are you?"

"I think she's a house elf," guffawed one. "A real ugly one!"

"I'm an Aussie, the ones with the better beer then yours." Okay, not the comeback of the century but it earned another kick aimed at my ribs.

I let out an animalistic snarl! Shoving upwards I caught my footing and lashed out with a foot splayed in front. The boy thinking it was aimed for the knackers knocked his knees together and hands went down to protect them. Just as he did my foot turned outwards and smashed down on his bent knee. He screamed and I ducked beneath his arms flailing for me. I let out my own terrified screech and ran, deeper into the alley!

Swears and curses chased my heels but small legs meant greater nimbleness in the dark. Even in the magical world Diagon Alley was had unwanted furniture piled against the sides, the difference was that these would jab a wooden leg or wheel into my path. I jumped and smashed my over or through them, their rusting squeals like agonised animals.

An old trolley wheeled in front of me! Broken and twisted bars like busted teeth grinned as my leg kicked off the wall just in time to avoid being impaled on the spokes. They jabbed and caught in the thick denim of my shorts.

I staggered, luckily avoiding an arm lunging over the trolley and combed through my fanned out hair but dragged the trolley snarled in the frayed ends with me. I screamed again in fear, spinning hysterically to loose the mesh of twisted metal. It bashed the wall and screeched. Sparks spurted beneath the rubberless wheels locking into place!

"She's a mudblood too!" yelled the Shorty past my ear. I spun again aiming for him but my legs tripped. The trolley flung into the wall and dust showered around its crumpled figure. A wheel spun to a lazy stop.

Just as I struggled upright using a wall for balance, Shorty grabbed a fistful of my shirt and shoved me beside the trolley. Panting with wide eyed fear I didn't resist. Even for a short person he was taller than me. I shoved him back and hunched using the wall to protect my back. As a veteran of rural soccer, I knew there wasn't a lot worse than a kick in the kidneys. A moment later the taller kids caught up and clustered around the mouth of the dead end, little more than shadows amongst the shadows.

"Alright!" I hissed in outrage between raspy drags of breath. Blood snaked down either side of my nose leaving the metallic taste of blood washing over my lips. I fished my wand, the comforting weight of my wand, into my balled fist. "Alright! You wanna go! I, will, _smeeear_ you across the pavement!"

Six wands levelled at my chest and amused smirks were exchanged.

A bright auburn nimbus appeared behind the teenager's heads. "Zukie! No!"

Too late!

I slashed my wand through the air and fireworks exploded in front of my eyes with the agonised scream of a kettle on the boil!

The world was engulfed in orange.

"Ow, ow OW!" I whimpered as Chrys pressed a piece of ice onto my nose. I had only just returned to consciousness, but for some reason that word felt wrong. "What happened?"

"You were holding your wand backwards," she chirped cheerfully. I blinked, looking around. I was back in my room at the Cauldron.

"And?"

"You turned yourself into a pumpkin!"

I mulled this over. So it was return to _sentience,_ rather than consciousness. "Why pumpkins?"

"I don't know, but it will probably wear off once you learn how to use it. Uncle Pedro said something about it being a safety precaution, but he didn't sound too sure."

I lay down, feeling sore and realised I couldn't see over my own swelled nose. Bugger it.


	3. Not For Squids

**_Ghelli:_**_ Thanks mate, you rock! Here's your chance!_

**Chapter 3**

**_Not for Squids_**

Oh gawd, oh gawd, oh gawd.

"Are you Ok, Zukie. Don't worry, Platform 9 ¾ scares everyone first time," Chrys assured patting me on the shoulder, jolting my lungs into gear again. Running at the wall was the easy part. I had done it a couple a times and as long as you didn't hit it with your nose, it didn't even hurt. What gripped me just short of a heart attack was the other side.

Waking up that morning I had felt the chest sucking anticipation of the first day of school. I had spent my entire life a Kyneema Primary School. It was a school of fifty kids, a place so small it didn't have a fire bell, it had an aid screaming "Fire!" What was I to expect? This was a school for an entirecountry!

The plus side was that just about everyone else would be new too.

The barman woke me up early with a large breakfast and a steaming hot coffee. My mother warned me that coffee stunted growth in the same tone she warned me about why I should wear clean underwear (in case you get hit by a bus. Like the first thing you don't do after getting hit by a bus is wet yourself!), but just having a warm drink in my hand calmed me down. Tom grinned, a few teeth shy, and helped me tug a three or four travel bags onto the pavement while there was a lull in business for Pedro. It was unnerving to have cars putter by while they stared at Flynn's cage, apparently empty except for a grubby old log.

"Come on, you can sit in the car with my friends," chirped Chrys, pressing me forward. I was frozen to the cement gripping the trolley piled with my bags in white knuckles. The platform on the outside was almost bare…. This… Oh gawd, so many people. All I could do was utter a panicked squeak.

Knots of kids shuttled back and forth, squealing with delight. Elder kids laughed and shoved each other playfully. Strange creatures yammered and shrieked. People scraped past me and made me want to squeeze into the tiniest possible shape. I had come from a place which allowed me to develop a personal space of at least a metre, people were coming so close!

Forcing myself to breath I took a shaking step forward after my lead, trying to weave the trolley through the mosh and then carried my bags into a car which would be towed behind an impressive red steam engine. It was my first time on a train. Inside three other seventh years talked and giggled excitedly over their holidays. Finally I shifted Flynn's cage into my lap and squeezed myself into a corner.

I wanted a window seat but all the girls leaned across it as they chattered like monkeys. One was trying to stare inconspicuously at Flynn who had puffed his feathers and turned his back on them doing his best 'I'm not here' impression with his neck stretched up and beak partly open. He rolled his black pupil on yellow iris eyes at me before closing it to complete the illusion.

Finally, tittering breathlessly, Chrysanthemum plumped herself on the other side with her tortoiseshell cat hugged to her chest despite its best efforts to crawl under the seat.

"Oh my god! Did you see Demitri's new hair cut?"

"I know, too bad he's going with Eliza," replied one of the girls with a dreamy smile.

"Sylvia said she cheated on him over the holidays," whispered another amongst the conspirators.

I sighed and tried to make pictures out of the markings on Flynn's plumage.

"Oh yeah," said Chrys apologetically trying to invite me closer to the group. "Everyone, this is Maree, but everyone calls her Zukie. She's the one my uncle found, remember?"

My stare darkened a little, the tone suggested he had discovered some strange deep sea fish and should come and goggle at it.

"Oh, the one from 'Downundah!" said one trying out an Australian accent. If she said anything about shrimp on the barbie, I'd show _her_ a _prawn_ on the barbie. "What kind of owl is that?"

"He's not an owl," I replied tartly. "He's a tawny frogmouth, a kind of nightjar."

"Oh, uh, sorry," the girl, an piqued expression flitting across her face that said_ know-it-all brat_ all too clearly before turning back to more important topics, such as Demitri's availability on the meat market. I restrained myself from rolling my eyes or sighing again. I found it hard talking to girls, boys were much more straight forward, and they didn't giggle.

The train whistle blew and it jolted forward, chuffing slowly and then picking up speed. Peeking through the girl's bowed heads, I watched the train station and furiously waving parents vanished into a dot on the horizon and out of sight. Unfamiliar trees whooshed pasted in a tealy blur and then made way to lush paddocks of green grass speckled with diary cattle and sheep.

Seeing actual green grass was an eye opener. Seeing it I never realised just how brown our grass actually was. Green mountains, green grass, green leaves. Jeeze! Why couldn't they share it around!

After a while the train ride had lost its novelty. It was a bus with more bumps. Leaning on my elbow I wanted to read some of the spell books but they were hidden right at the bottom of one of my floral travel bags. I settled for spinning my wand through my fingers to relieve the boredom.

"Maybe you can change into your robes now, Zukie," suggested one of the girls noticing my discomfort. "Then you can look around for some first years. We'll look after your nightjar."

"Naw, I'll take it with me."

I thanked her and pulled the crumpled black material from a little backpack before hefting up a trunk and bags.

"Watchit!" growled Flynn, turning his back on me.

After several attempts I managed to squeeze through the door and staggered from car to car until I found the change room. Three other girls were already lined up impatiently with the same black robes draped over their arms. The girl in front of me smiled vaguely, curling a bit of hair around one finger but then went back to stare at the panorama zipping past.

Finally it was my turn and I turned the lock behind me.

Tossing the robes on halfhazardly, I was jabbed by every one of the two dozen pins I had scrounged to peg up my sleeves and cuffs and as it hung off me in folds. I wondered if it was meant to be like that. The sleeves belled like some medieval princess's and the rest kind of sulked by my ankles. On the hanger it had appeared perfectly wizardly, something that belonged to Disney's Fantasia.

Wear had made it a dark grey rather that the roguish black of the other students, and the black satin that lined the cuffs for some reason reminded me of red if I glimpsed it from the corner of my eye. The lady pinning me up had waved it away, saying that that was because it was second hand and I shouldn't worry about it.

"Very nice, although you might want to take it in when you get to Hogwarts."

"AHHHH!" I pivoted, and lunged out, only to forget there was door that separated me and freedom. I told you running into walls didn't hurt. "THE MIRROR'S TALKING!"

"It was a compliment dear, you'll fill it in I'm sure," it tried to sooth in a motherly voice that reminded me of Mrs Potts. I stopped pounding and reminded myself where and what I was now. How did it make the noise? Standing on my toes I tried to pry it from its hook to see what was behind it but the ticklish giggles was disturbing. "If you want try the levitation spell. Wingardium Leviosa!"

"Uh, thanks. Wingar-"

"No dear, the emphasis is on the _gar._ Now again, Win_gar_dium Levi_osa_"

"Win_gard_ium Levi_osa_" Using the wand to direct it I floated it down so I could get a decent look at me in my robes, from the back and the side. "Hey! This ain't too bad! Thanks, Mrs, um, Mirr-achoo!"

The wand bucked, the mirror froze in midair, contorted and rolled across the floor of the dressing room, a pumpkin.

_At least its still in one piece,_ I sighed. Smuggling it under my robes in embarrassment I gave the wand an almost reprimanding shake before stuffing it back in its pocket as a boy slid in behind me, flashing suspicious looks. I chuckled uneasily and hid the pumpkin in one of my large bags and then reloaded, shuffling like a giant turtle.

Then to find some first years.

I tried a few cars, each full of nervously chatting kids. Some invited me to join them, until they saw I had half my room with me. Luckily on the forth try I slid a door open to find a single boy. He looked like he'd been snorting a fireplace but I didn't feel like being picky. I fought to drag my laden body through, no longer patient.

"I'm sitting here, everywhere else is full. Got a problem?" I demanded, panting and trying to lift my trunk into the over head. It was like asking an ant to lift a seashell but I tried to do so anyway. He sat up to help, placing his still smoking wand to the side and wiping away the soot, but I shot him a harsh glare. My motto was always 'if you can't stand on your own to feet, you may as well lay down,' even if it was physically impossible. He watched a little while longer, glancing up from his study book if I grunted loudly when finally he huffed and intoned "Win_gard_ium Levi_osa__!"_

The trunk quivered as it lifted off the seat, as high as I'd been able to lift it, and settled gently in the overhead at Sooty's direction.

I shot him a savage glare that meant death but he regarded me only with vague interest. "Did I ask you to do that? No! So just leave me stuff alone!"

His eyes travelled down and settled on my wand in my jeans pocket. "You're welcome," he said diffidently and sank back onto his seat with the already dog eared textbook.

If that wasn't enough the Brit started showing off. I watched him enviously as he repaired a tear in his shirt. I was already considering his possibilities with the rest of my clothing and any nightly excursions.

He had a shock of smooth blonde hair, not that ugly brownish blonde, or white blonde, more of a crayon yellow cupping his head down below his ears. He was tall, but that wasn't saying a lot when you were my size, but not lanky. He also wasn't as pale as the rest of these kids.

He noticed me watching with the same faint, dreamy smile. Alright, alright. I couldn't keep my jaw from sagging. I had turned the spell book back to front and hadn't seen any spell of the kind. He'd put two and two together and realised I wasn't a magic family, moogle or whatever. He took the opportunity to introduce me to a variety of, things, off a little trolley. Those that didn't make my tastebuds explode in ecstasy made me vow to never let my tongue out in public again. When the packet says _every_ flavour in the magic world, do your self a favour and _believe_ them.

Yellow does not automatically mean pineapple.

That was not where things ended. Lively lollies and exploding sherbet, I'm surprised they didn't have hazard signs on them:

WARNING: Beware chocolate may attack.

Hey! Don't laugh! You try being mauled by a chocolate frog! I loosed a yell as it twitched and jumped at me. Now I am _not_ under any, _any, ANY,_ circumstances afraid of insects, or snakes, or octopuses or stuff, but when it moved, just I was about to sink my teeth it, you can understand why I was edgy about wizard food. But chocolate was chocolate. After Ol'mate tamed it with a flick of his wand (I had since given up the wand after turning jellybean into a miniature squash), I scarfed it down quite happily.

By the time the train chuffed to a stop, my complexion was probably begging for mercy, but as I always said, _why regret tomorrow?_ I guess that explains a lot about me and my endless supply of bruises.

Taking a deep breath and squinting in concentration at my trunk, I raised my wand. _Float, float, float!_ I repeated over and over, and aloud said, "Win_gard_ium Levi_osa__!"_

_I'm doing it! I'm doing it! _I thought with dizzy delight, but on the outside I kept a smooth, smug smile. "I told you I didn't need your help."

As the sentence finished, there was a cartoony _pop_! like a champagne bottle being opened and the pumpkin rolled in its wake with a large crack down its side. "Let's see you try that! Much easier than lugging a stupid trunk around!" The smug smile stretched just a little too much as I restrained the urge to kick something. Blondie just smiled politely and handed it back to me.

_Well, it's easier to carry,_ I reasoned, the toothy grin turning genuine again. With similar pops, the assortment of clothes and knickknacks morphed into various kinds of pumpkins. Stuffing them back into their bags I slung them over back, considerably lighter. I winked at Blondie.

"Can you turn them back," he said sceptically, following me out the door.

"This is a magic school. Someone else can do it!" He didn't say anything but radiated a quiet disapproval at the sentiment.

Stepping out into the hallway I almost bumped into someone, saved by paranoid reflexes but being overloaded with vegetables made me over balance and grope the car wall for balance.

Without waiting a hand reached down and almost yanked my arm out of my socket as she yanked me to my feet and pumped the arm enthusiastically, and to a step in close.

"Hi! I'm Anjuli!"

I yelped and shuffled backwards when she leaned in, her body not an inch from mine. And her voice! It sounded just like a spaniel puppy, like it's about to wet itself with joy even if you were only out of its sight for two seconds. She was oblivious and went on shaking.

"Hi," I said with distaste and unpeeling my hand from hers. "I'm Zukie."

"Wow! You're Australian? More foreign students!" she squealed and threw her arms around my neck before I could scramble back further. I resisted the urge to cringe and nodded, backing into Blondie as an excuse to escape. "And you've met Leo! My family and his family go way back! Big wizarding family, his! How's Vivian? What about yours? Did you move here?"

Trying to answer her questions was like paddling up Kakadu Falls in a kayak. She paused for breath waiting for me to answer with bright green eyes dancing and her nape length blonde hair swinging around her head with each skippy little movement she made.

"Uh, yes?"

Anjuli's smile faltered, but pressed on. "Come on! My older sisters told me all about the Sorting! I'm going to be in Ravenclaw, just like them."

"You never know," Leo said amiably with bored swinging strides as he got off the car and was swallowed up by the milling kids. In fact he seemed bored with the whole ordeal. Not wanting to be stuck with Anjuli, I cleared the steps with a leap and squeezed between two other first years to reach him. Unfortunately Anjuli slid through the gap after me and I ended up being squoshed even closer to her as the gap closed in.

The trip must have been longer than I percieved because a chill evening breeze was playing with the drooping sleeves of the other students. Stars unbelievably bright twinkled overhead. Even though I was in the northern hemisphere, I still tried to make sense of the patterns, searching for my guiding constellation, the Southern Cross. It was conspicuously absent from sky and in its place was a swathe of bright pinpricks.

Huge conifer trees rose up around the bare cement platform veiling everything beyond it from view save a narrow but well kept track blanketed with dead pine needles. Standing in front of it was a monster of a man, practically a bear in double knit trousers brandishing a bright lantern that miraculously managed to illuminate the entire group. "Firs' years! Firs' years gather round!"

The older years laughed and giggled, some calling out idle menaces that would await us first years. Some waved their arms like jelly fish and others made low wailing sounds before ducking out of sight.

Trying to touch as few people as possible, I suddenly jumped aside as Anjuli's arm shot into the air and waved madly. "Ingrid! Ingrid!" Another girl squeezed her way next to Anjuli with the same mindless zeal. The girls threw their arms around each other, each trying to natter over the other until Anjuli introduced me to her. I nodded absently and tried to escape further by ducking beneath Leo's dangling sleeve.

"Help me!" I hissed.

"Why? Anjuli's just being nice." Leo's smile turned sly.

"Do it or I'll kick your shins in!" Leo's eyes flew open in amazement, whether at the shock of being threatened, or being threatened by someone who came halfway up his chest, who knew, but nether the less put his body between me and the tedious ramblings of teen angst.

"Alright! All firs' years off? Leave yer bags here, they'll be over the other side wait'n," the bear man boomed laughingly, stroking the immense beard. It didn't need trimming, it needed a whipper snipper.

"He's not going to eat us is he? Grind our bones to make his bread and all that?"

Leo chuckled as we started down the winding path, stumbling slightly as the pine needles hid slippery rocks. "Of course not, that's Rubeus Hagrid, game warden for the Forbidden Forest."

My ears perked. "Forbidden ay? Pray tell."

His answer cut off as the path opened up and the loud murmurs of awe spread infectiously from first year to first year. Looming against a swollen moon was the silhouette of a castle. It wasn't just a castle, it was a castle with extra fries. Turrets and towers sprung up like mushrooms, gargoyles could be made out clinging to the rooftops. Keystone arches with flowery piers and abutments. Last but not least a huge glassy lake spread out like a mirror before it, upon which were moored a flotilla of little rowboats.

"No ov'rload'n the boats, four to a ship," called Mr Hagrid, taking up one all on his own. Tagging at Leo's heels who had unwittingly become my guide, he was to my horror leading us to where Blonde and Blonder were signalling to us.

"Pretend we don't see them!" I demanded, grabbing his sleeve and trying to tug him in a different direction.

"You'd probably be doing pretty well to be friends with Anjuli, you know. She and I were home schooled, all of her family are in extended classes." Leo continued to be bored, and two things became very obvious. One, he found Anjuli just as irritating but enjoyed seeing me suffer for his own quiet entertainment, and two, I was dealing with a nerd.

"Oh," I said with growing dread. Don't get me wrong, I've got nothing against brainiacs. It's just that all the knowledge they stored seemed to push out all the other bits relating to personality. I was beginning to suspect Leo wasn't much different with that quiet, malleable thing he had going. "I dibs bow!"

"Dibs?"

"Save? I dunno, but its mine."

"You're awfully pushy for a little girl you know." Without answering I leapt into the boat, my ankle catching the side, sinking it lower into the water and splashing over the rim. The girls squealed but after it settled Leo stepped in calmly, squeezing in beside me no matter how I tried to spread out. He ignored my dirty looks and gazed out over the water, winking silver on the ripples.

I was no stranger to the water, I loved it despite living far inland, maybe because I lived inland. Every year my family would take at least one fishing trip and I adored the relaxing dip and roll of our little tinny as other boats whizzed across the dam. I can vividly remember being little and sitting on my haunches holding two anchor ropes pretending I was steering a racing car, making squealing and bouncing noises as the boat jumped from wave to wave.

I knelt peering over the bow while the girls tried to bail out the water and leaves floating in the bottom. Sitting deep in the water Mr Hagrid tapped the side his boat with an umbrella and slid smoothly into the water slicing it into sheets of moon silver with the rest gliding behind it.

"Come'on faster, faster, faster!" I urged as ours chugged along near the front.

"You do realise it's an inanimate object don't you?" Leo said, dipping his arm into the water. His cup hand gouged out a trail behind us before the waters folded in on it.

"Yeah, well having a mouth doesn't seem to be a limiting criteria in this little slice of insanity."

"Tu shay," he smirked, and flicked a handful of water at me. I scooped up my own and flung it with a fan of droplets, sniggering.

"Come on guys, don't do that!" Anjuli pleaded, wiping off the droplets that pelted her. In defiance I scooped up another and rocked onto my knees to fling it further. The boat pitched crazily and it twisted and turned with each spasm. With a fiendish grin I realised we could steer it even a little with our weight. The boat was slowly veering towards another boat just ahead filled with two boys and two girls. The girl lounging across the bow seat saw us and returned the malicious grin.

"Well well well!" she called, straightening. To call her slender would miss the perfect opportunity to use emaciated. She was tallish, from what I could see, with legs like toothpicks beneath her skirt and a neck like a slinky. It was so long in comparison to her tiny, freckled head. Her laughter was a loud jolting bray, just like a zebra in a Serengeti documentary. Moonlight shone behind them. The silhouette of one of them was small, the shadows and highlights melting over his copper hair. Recognition finally pierced my brain.

Shorty.

"You gotta be josh'n," I whispered under my breath, my hand reaching without thought to my waist where the twisted bars of the trolley had scraped gashes like bite marks. My teeth flashed menacingly.

I threw my weight to one side and the boat tilted upwards, twisting ever so slightly towards their boat. It wasn't enough.I grabbed Leo's shoulder who was watching impassively and yanked him to my side despite a cry of protest. The weight shifted dangerously and the little rowboat swerved sharply, now on a beeline for Shorty's boat. As I grew close I recognised the girl too, the one who called me foreign. There was no sign of the foxy boy but I wasn't surprised. He had looked a lot older.

"Mudblood!" the giraffe necked girl trumpeted.

There was a sharp intake in breath from the boats within earshot. It must have been an insult or something.

"Make this thing go faster!" I hissed savagely to Leo.

"I don't know how!"

"I thought you were in extended classes!"

"That was things like algebra! Algebra!"

Too late! Giraffe withdrew the slender shadow that must have been her wand and jabbed it at the boat. Its occupants whistled and crowed as it cut smoothly through the water spraying plumes behind it.

"Stop yers horseplay!" Hagrid growled over the top of the waves that were now coursing out to rock the other boats.

"Back down while you still can, house elf!"

"No way!" I snapped back ignoring Anjuli trying to order me around. I groped for Leo again but he was a quick learner and hugged his sleeves to his chest. Their boat loomed!

FWWACK!

Their bow ploughed into our side, dipping and lifted beneath the rim of our own! They didn't stop there! The momentum thrust up and the wood scraped loudly on wood, shoving our boat up onto its side. The girls squealed and latched onto the side!

I wasn't quick enough. The boat's grizzly moan threatened to capsize. Already off balance crouched on my haunches I was catapulted from my seat and over the side. My shoulder slammed into something solid and clutched it with limbs still flailing.

"Whoa!" It was Leo I had grasped and we toppled, scrabbling on the slippery wood and into the icy water.

Cold! My mind shut down momentarily in shock. So icy was the frigid moonlit waters the wind was knocked out of me and I instinctively tried to suck in air to refill it. Water poured into my lungs and I coughed and clawed my way back towards the water's surface, gleaming like fish scales as waves tossed around.

Luckily Leo had more sense. As I struggled blindly upwards for air his arms encircled my body and held me down. Bubbles streamed from his nostrils and his blonde hair floated like a ghostly halo around my head. He jerked his head upwards to get some sense into me. Overhead the hulls of the rowboats behind us passed overhead. Had I broken the surface my skull would have collided with them and been sucked under again, unconscious.

My lungs screamed and my struggling subsided. Finally he let go and I surged towards the surface. I gagged, coughing up water and trying, trying to get air between my ragged gasps. My arms felt like spaghetti so my pathetic paddling did little to keep me afloat and my waterlogged robes sagged on my body so that I couldn't rely on natural buoyancy. With a sharp kick I broke the surface again and spun whilst treading water to look for Leo.

He was stroking after our boat which after its short tussle had drifted back on course towards the castle with the girls encouraging him from the back. He wasn't getting anywhere fast as he too fought against the weight of his robes.

Now what? I let myself sink to regain some strength before I tried to chase after them. Floating above the water meant my face was stung by the breeze and my teeth chattered steadily. The Sorting thing would be over by the time I got there.

Of course, I could have relieved the burden of my robe, let it descend to a watery grave and make a break for it, but I would do so over my dead body. What was left over from my venture at Diagon Alley was non existent.

Still holding my breath and trying to remain calm I looked through the inky blackness. Far, far below I thought I could make out lights, fairy lights fluttering in a watery haze. I watched them dreamily and then gazed up. The surface was now a pretty way above me. Had I let myself drop that far? A feeble kick didn't do much and my lungs were starting to complain. I dreamily watched the bubbles trickle out my nose in a thin stream.

Suddenly something gripped my shoe. Something had been fluttering around it for the past couple minutes but I had passed it off as seaweed. How far away was the bottom? I glanced below and huge, watery eye stared back, a narrow catlike pupil focused on me.

I screamed! Expelling the last of my air I thrashed upwards desperately. Almost on top of me was a parrot like beak, snapping shut and spewing its own cloud of bubbles. It snapped again and it was like the sound had intercepted the messages travelling down my nerves for a brief second. Did squid have echolocation? Dolphins did and it stunned their prey. Then again, maybe in this magic place it just used a mind zap.

A red tentacle snaked up and shook me into action again. I breached and waved wildly with a watery shriek, splashing and thrashing. It was probably the worst thing to do when being attacked, but logic had packed its bags and gone to Bali.

"GEDOVERERE! GET! Get over here!" Water churned and I saw Hagrid's boat moseying despite his best efforts to force it faster, waving that stupid pink umbrella as he yelled at it. Other slower boats were closing in and one was edging towards us with the people at the bow leaning their weight to guide it.

"Zukie! Don't panic!" Leo again! He was stroking furiously back towards me.

I sank again unable to keep afloat. The giant squid's tentacle snaked out again but I dived beneath it. It was horrible, like being stuck in slow motion, every movement sluggish and exaggerated in the sucking force of the water. I slithered in and out trying to steal another breath but a tentacle blockaded me from reaching it. Panic was using up my air faster and my lungs felt like the were being throttled! The sharp stabbing pain of a stitch in my side crippled me.

Above Leo grabbed my outstretched arm and tugged me out of the way squid's coils again! I took in a delirious breath but Leo jerked me aside again. An immense slimy tentacle slapped the surface where we had been. My hand slipped and I was plunged under. Leo's hands waved around above my head, each time missing my own by inches.

"Weeeelp!" I burbled, tears of fear mixing with the water. The huge shining bubbles wafted around like I was in a fantasy and as gigantic limbs thrashed the waters, the currents bashed my body.

Abruptly a tentacle wrapped around my waist, and squeezed! They slithered around my waist, tiny suckers latching onto my bear skin and lifting me like a rag doll. My underwater screams severed and my head swam from lack of oxygen and exhaustion. With conscious thought becoming more and more distant I dreamily groped for the hem of my robes, floating like cuttlefish frills around me. Water currents flowed as the squid was taking me somewhere, up or down I could no longer tell. Lights above and lights below enhanced the feelings of detachment.

_Got it,_ I thought vaguely, my head lolly like a lead weight. I gripped the weapon tightly, wound my arm back, and stabbed!

The nappy pin gored a tentacle and with a sharp movement ripped a long slash along its length.

It wailed, relinquishing its grip! Another nerve rattling snap of the beak froze me but I had anticipated it. I kicked up as alien blood billowed through the water and I clawed what I hoped was upwards. I was barely a foot below the surface and Leo was right there.

Shoving me behind him he clumsily gripped his wand as he treaded water, splashing and mumbling to himself. "Joliectus? No, um! Oh! Ah ha! _Rictusempra__!"_

The wand fizzed. Leo tried again. "_Rictusempra_Rictu_sem_praRICTUSEMPRA_!""_

The water bubbled around the tip. "RICT-US-EMPRA"

A blast of air erupted from wand, and shot us into the air like a bottle rocket! I met the water in a belly flop and the needled prickles stung like mad.

"I got you!" I looked around as two people stood up from another boat, peeling of their robes and dived in.

"I can do it myself," I gasped, dog paddling towards the boat on my own but it was so faint it was inaudible. Leo gratefully accepted the help, stroking in tandem with the boy who helped him while a thin, sick looking boy hauled him in sopping.

"Stop it!' My rescuer gulped and shoved me up. I waved away the sick boy's arms up and grunting and groaning fell panting into the bottom of the boat with Leo. We glared at each other.

"You didn't have to pull me in after you."

"I didn't need your help."

"Could have fooled me." I looked up at this voice. It was Leo's rescuer, an aloof boy with his dark hair plastered around his face. Breathing out he sat down sweeping the twin strands framing his face back behind his ears where a short ponytail spiked out from his neck.

After her came mine, a girl whose own straw like hair made me believe the black was dye. That wasn't the only artifice she had, mascara dripped down her cheeks like inky tears and smeared black lipstick painted the clear picture she was of those people who were always trying to be dark and brooding. In fact except for being eleven she was what people looked for in a Halloween witch costume. She shook her hair out like a dog spraying droplets at the rest of us turning it almost fluffy. Grinning like a crocodile she shrugged on her dry rob.

"Stop it Felix, you're getting us wet!" complained the sick boy, with a sulky expression. The roll of Felix's eyes made me believe this was usual. Neat stolen blonde hair combed to one side and pallid skin. I didn't even need to look to tell his nails were conscientiously well kept and he probably labelled his underwear after the days of the week. He was trying to shield the last member staring distantly across the water. His hair, a little lighter than the boy who was obviously his brother was cut in jagged strips, the longest almost scapula length and some tufts cut close to the scalp.

"Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree!" he sang toneless. It felt like he wasn't staring at me, curled shivering at the bottom on the floor, but piercing through me to the water below.

"Hey! He said that last week!" the whiny boy chirped, and fished into his breast pocket. He withdrew, safe in a sealed plastic bag, a notebook and pen. He flipped through it eagerly and then recited. "Googa baron sits in the old gum tree, merry merry king of the bus is he."

I snorted. "King of the bus? Get real, it's a nursery rhyme. A kookaburra is a bird that's call sounds like its laughing. Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree, merry merry king of the bush is he. Laugh, kookaburra laugh, kookaburra, how gay your life must be."

"See!" he insisted. "He knew you were coming!"

I shot a look at Felix. "The nerd is Sebastian, the freaky one is Kalchas. He's psychic, 'cept he has a detached retina in his second sight."

Why did I keep being surprised? "Huh?"

"He's like a fritzy radio, only you don't know if he's picking up stuff from the past, or the future. He's a bit-" Felix tapped her temple meaningfully.

"He is not!" protested Sebastian. "Why are you telling her? She's a, a, a ratbag!" He glared at me.

Felix shrugged.

The sound of another boat was coming closer and it pulled up beside us. Hagrid's huge profile leaned over the side. "Are you kiddies alright?" he asked was a cross between concern and annoyance.

"Yah," I wheezed.

"I'll be have'n to tell the Headmaster, you know." Now that look was directed at me. I nodded remorsefully and slumped back. "Poor Squiddy! He was only try'n ta help."

"Help!" I said without force. "He tried to drag me to Davey's Locker!"

"That's the ocean," corrected Leo.

"Shutup!"

"No, he was trying to help you back to your boat but you kepta squirming!" The giant man nodded and called to the rest of the group bobbing up and down and trying to peer at us in curiosity. A sheet of ivy vines draped over the boat as it passed through into a tunnel and then into enormous cavern, its acoustics mellowing the noises to an almost musical whisper. The boats bumped onto a jetty and that other boy eased me onto it. I didn't even have the strength to remind him I could do it myself. I just slumped in my sopping robes, shivering like a vibrating squiggle pen.

A shadow loomed over me and I glanced up. I immediately regretted it, being locked into the icy gaze of a stern woman people back home called 'spritely'. Spritely had nothing to do with it, it was sheer uncompromising will.

"I saw your antics on the lake," she said in a withering tone. I tried to appear cute and apologetic but that would cut no slack with her. She caught Leo's eye and waved him in beside. She murmured a few words and _Fwoot_

I held my arms out from my body giving them a shake. Dry as a dingos dinner. My hands raked through my hair. It too was dry but the while still bound it its tail, the tail part had become _poofy_

"All right, everyone gather round. I am Professor McGonagall." She didn't have to raise her voice, the rest of the first years hushed up immediately and crowded in front of her. Between the heads I saw Shorty and the Giraffe smirking but it was cut short with a glance. Behind her Hagrid rapped three times on huge oaken door, aged and knotted which swung open smoothly. "And welcome, to one of the most prestigious academies in the world, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"


	4. Like A Sponge

_Another cheers to Twisted Alyx, the one and only, for reviewing again. Hope you guys enjoy it too._

**Chapter 4**

**_Like a Sponge_**

The doors swung wide. A collective gasp escaped from the first years. It seemed not even those from witchy families were expecting such antique luxury. My head however had short circuited with all the possibilities and simply gave up once the castle came into view. It was the closest thing I had to a blank slate.

It was something straight out of a really expensive King Arthur movie. As I passed beneath the key stone, I absently rapped against the pier just in case it was styrofoam.

"Ow," I muttered, blowing on my knuckles and rubbing them on my chest. In the frosty air they stung like mad.

Drifting along beside me, Felix pulled her tall witch hat over her ears and smiled so eagerly her eyes, still dripping thick black mascara, could pop at any moment. "Nup, they're authentic! Pretty unreal, huh?"

I didn't reply as my eyes roved the flagstone floor and then rose up to the ceiling where an iron wrought chandelier bathed the hall with in light and shadows. Far away over the forest of heads was a magnificent staircase and from behind the carved door it lead to came a gabble of voices, laughing and cheering, the sounds of classmates reunited. Obviously where we were heading.

"Step on line, you break your spine!" Both Felix and I started as Kalchas, on his brother's heel singing cheerfully as he hopped from flagstone to flagstone, his untidy hair belling with each jump. With better illumination I could see it was much paler than I thought, almost bleach blonde.

"Step on a crack, and break your back!" I whispered blithely, following his footstep, and then Felix right behind me, trying to bump me off. Leo didn't want to join our fun but as he slowed his gait I realised we were floating to the back of the mob. They parted around us like we were obstacles in a creek bed. A few rolled their eyes at us but most were too enamoured with the castle around them to pay us any attention.

As I paused unsteadily on one leg, your typical straggler, a suit of armour caught my eye hanging beneath a bright red and gold tapestry. I mean, like an actual suit of armour! My head cocked to the side as I drank in the novelty. Not even in a museum had I seen one, and this one was wiggling its fingers at me. While I wrestled with the idea if this was normal, the group had vanished out of sight. All that were left in the vast entrance hall were Kalchas, Leo, Felix and myself.

Without lifting her eyes from the stones whilst hopscotching with the dreamy eyed boy, she said, "Its just armour, I bet there's a lot here. We had-" she grunted as she jumped two at a time, "an old museum down from our place, all rusty. The curator Mr McConner wouldn't let me touch it to figure out how the joints worked."

"Hey you guys," Leo broached hesitantly, "Everyone's gone into that room over there."

"So? We know where they are, I just wanna look at this."

Felix snorted and fought Kalchas on one leg for his stone while I stood beneath the tall, hulking metal carapace. It was now stock still and I wondered if I had imagined it. One arm balance some kind of ancient axe on its shoulder, the other dangled by its side. Unable to resist, I drummed my fingers on the knight's chest but it rang hollow and then lifted the arm to let it flop clanging back to its side. The other three froze suddenly at the noisy clunking of joints in contrast to the unexpected silence. Above, the hall had gone quiet and I could feel their anticipation.

"Yeah, we better get back to the others," I tried to say nonchalantly feeling distinctly uneasy, spinning abruptly on my heel. Even as I turned I felt the swift _whoosh_ of motion and instinctively froze as something raked past my hair. The other three had frozen too, their mouths gaping. Behind me came the sounds of slow but purposeful squeaks and scratches that came when you tried unwiggle something rusted shut. I didn't dare turn around for fear of what I would see, magic world or no.

"It's an animation charm!" choked out Leo, patting down his robes. "It has to be!"

"Do something!" Felix hissed, tugging out her own wand and aiming it over my head. "The only spell I can do is Lumos!"

"Immobilis," Kalchas offered offhandedly, twisting his robe sleeves and looking around for something more interesting. The portraits lining the second tier of the hall all seemed to be staring with intense fascination, their eyes appearing to follow our conversation.

"Perfect!" Leo exulted, finally freeing his wand from his pocket. With an exultant cry, his wand twinkled! "Immobilus!"

The creaking sounds ceased, but the hair raising feeling of someone right over my shoulder didn't. Gradually feeling flowed by into my arms and I ventured a look over my shoulder. The knight _loomed_ over me with both hand gripping the axe above its head. I uttered a hoarse squeak of relief and refrained from crumpling onto my knees.

"Fee-yew!" Felix breathed, unlocking her jaw. "Now lets-"

FAH-WUMP!

I yelled, shoving myself backwards between the armour's legs just as the axe dropped! Sparks flew and cleaved the flagstone it buried itself in two. The armour's neck screeched agonisingly as it twisted. The empty helm stared dully at the other three and then on me squatting in amazement between its legs. Again instinct came to fore and threw my weight against one wobbling leg. With my thick tail swirling around my face obscuring my vision, my legs skittered and pedalled the stones to tackle him like a rugby player.

One arm relinquished the axe to swat me away but with a war cry Kalchas lunged over the axe and his skinny body smashed into his other leg, clamouring like a brass bell. Grunting and groaning and gazing around wild eyed, mine locked his through a wedge free of hair. Though pale they shone with clarity, meeting my own for a brief second in time before slamming his weight against the knight again. It teetered dangerously, and Leo joined us, running and hurling his shoulder into its chest. He narrowly evaded the arms windmilling for balance! His face blanched close to mine as a whirring hand scarcely missed my ear and cuffed him upside the head.

"Count of three!" I puffed to Kalchas who was also straining to grip the slippery metal. "One!"

"Two!"

"Three!" With all my upper strength my elbow smashed behind the knee turning the joint inwards as did my partner. Leo, who had somehow manoeuvred behind the monstrosity shoved too.

"WHOA!" As one we toppled forward. The armour broke apart, raining down on us in bits and pieces. I cried out in pain as my arms failed to ward off a falling glove and Leo clutched his knee buried beneath the suit's cavernous chest. My own elbow throbbed!

"What is this!"

Our heads turned in whiplash unison, and shrank away. The lady, Professor McGonagall glared at the mess, more so when she caught sight of my face. A look of patience under severe test fought and lost to the one of authoritive calm.

"Its not what it looks like!" I babbled to be heard over my mates own excuses. "Like I was staring and I felt this weird pull and the armour glowed and it wiggled its fingers and said 'Come to the dark side' and I couldn't help it and then it swung its axe at me and like I dodged it quick as lightning and it missed so I tried to tackle it and Leo tried to stop it but he couldn't so Kalchas and I tried to tackle it and so did Leo and _it tried to kill me_!" Somehow, beyond all reasoning my voice ended with righteous indignation as the others trailed away. My hands groped and came up with a handful of neatly shorn hairs and then pulled my own tail up for her inspection.

Leo stared at me. "Come to the dark side?"

"Shutup," I flushed. When lying my head could be strangely resourceful and remembered the wizarding world didn't have television or movies or anything like that. I felt safe in knowing that Luke Skywalker would not be recognised.

Patiently I could feel the professor peeling back our stories and was quickly bearing down on the truth. "You said it waved at you," she asked sharply and I nodded fervently. "Peeves!" she growled dangerously.

"Aww!" I jumped out my skin as puny, silver hued man floated from the wall cackling. Beady black eyes twinkled impishly. "Did I scare da widdle firsties? Did mean owld ghostie whosty Peeves harm a hair on her widdle head!"

"My head isn't little!" I squawked indignantly but was waved silent by the Professor McGonagall.

"Well it matches the rest of you!" he taunted shrilly. "Its like looking at a needle! Needlehead! Needlehead!"

"Enough! The Baron will hear of this, Peeves. Be off!" He spiralled above us as if on an invisible rollercoaster before vanishing through the wall again with pop. Still glaring ferociously after the man she turned it on us. "Follow me."

There was no argument, our bodies simply formed a line behind her as if towed invisible leashes and into the cramped and gloomy room.

"The Start-of-Term Banquet will begin shortly, but before you are seated you will be sorted into your Houses. These Houses are Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor and Slytherin. Each has their own unique history and lore behind it. They will be like your family while you are here. You will sleep in your House, spend free time in your House and have classes with your House," Professor McGonagall pronounced carefully, scanning crowd of First Years and daring them to say a word. Her gaze lingered on me and I gulped. I tried a broad smile and to communicate a look that said _Oh please please don't punish me, I learnt my lesson and I'll never ever ever do it again, I promise, cross my fingers home to die_ in the space of .5 of a second. "Your triumphs will earn you House Points. Any rule-breaking," she paused meaningfully, picking up a three legged stool that was mouldering in the corner, "and you will lose points. And at the end of the year, the House with the most points will win the highly contested House Cup. I will leave you for a moment, use this time to tidy yourselves up."

I flicked a glace at Leo whose face was burning beside me. Rule breaking was not his forte. I let out a gusty sigh and reflected on what had happened in the space of thirty minutes. This was not the impression I had hoped for. Trying to make up for it I raked back my hair and tried to rub away the rusty red stains beneath my armpits and dusty knees.

"How come you look like you just got off the train?" I muttered after Leo.

"How do you think?" he said in the composed voice. The rip vanished beneath his wand. "I wonder what we'll have at the banquet. Michael said it'll be beyond my wildest dreams, but I can dream pretty well."

"And you," I turned on Felix, who was carefully reapplying her makeup from some kind of compact. It looked like a real one, not the kind you gave to plastic kind you gave to your kid sister on her birthday that was really just talcum powder. "Where'd you go?"

"Someone had to get the Professor," she said without missing a stroke, artfully flicking a brush across her lashes. I stared puzzled how an eleven year old would get her hands on makeup let alone why. "Do you think we'll be doing our spells skyclad? I read a lot of that in these occult magazines. I hope they separate the boys and the girls at least."

As she slipped the compact back into her pocket, Sebastian was attempting storm up to her but too many excited students in his way ruined the impression, especially when he tripped. As he stood up again and wiped his knees, she regarded him airily. His eyes strayed to Kalchas, once again staring at his shoes like they were a million miles away.

"What did you do to him," he demanded querulously. "He's all dirty! And," he lifted his hand roughly up for examination. "His skin's all ripped!"

"Don't be so over protective of him Sebastian," she rolled her eyes. "You're okay, hey bro?"

"Don't eat that mushroom, you'll explode."

"See."

Before he could launch his sermon, Professor McGonagall stuck her head back into the room. "The Sorting is starting _now_."

I shrugged. A House was a House and probably wouldn't mean a thing once we were sorted, like school houses for athletic carnivals. I had about as much House spirit as a cabbage. As she ushered us out into the hall Leo halted sounding deeply disappointed. "Where's the banquet?"

"Food smood! Look at the ceiling!"

"Enchanted," Sebastian and Leo said in unison. Sebastian sniffed and went on competitively. "It was bewitched to follow the constellations by Rowena Ravenclaw in 945 AD soon after opening the school."

"Clap clap," I said dryly, standing on my tip toes. We were being herded onto a low stage, and the focus of attention was centred solely on a moth-eaten conical hat and the stool it perched upon, which was quite a thing because over a dozen misty forms floated over the tables, in and out of hundreds and hundreds of brightly burning candles. Before I could say, _Now what?_ a rip around the brim opened wide, and began to sing.

_"Just over a thousand years ago_  
_I__n the time of Founding Four_  
_A quartet that are still known today_  
_Their names entrenched in lore_

_A school!' they cried.  
'So perfect_ _A place to learn and grow_  
_A sanctuary, a paradise_  
_For those who seek to know'._

_Wisdom of the witchy crafts_  
_And secrets of wizardry_  
_Of potions and brooms, beast and brood_  
_Spells, books and history_

_But it seems they were divided_  
_Which no one had predicted_  
_Of who to invite to join the ranks_  
_T__heir choices all conflicted_

_Gryffindor, a mighty man_  
_Chose whose hearts ruled their head_  
_Bravery and valiant deeds_  
_And following where adventure lead_

_Ravenclaw__, of wisdom true_  
_Suggested intelligence and wit_  
_She thought only the most knowledgeable_  
_And cleverest would fit_

_Slytherin__, sharp and shrewd  
__Demanded forebears uncontaminated_  
_Nothing will stand in their way_  
_All rivals eliminated_

_Last not least, dear Hufflepuff_  
_Not brave, nor smart, nor muggle_  
_She would not turn away_  
_Any unafraid of struggle._

_The argument rode back and forth_  
_Until they could agree_  
_If they could not choose themselves_  
_They left it up to me_

_The Sorting Hat, though battered_  
_Has never steered students wrong_  
_I will see what's in your head_  
_And decide where you belong_

_Whatever chosen, all beware_  
_Be cautious and mindful of your flaws_  
_From timid first year student_  
_To Headmaster Dumbledore!"_

Its jolly croak died away and the students burst into applause, some rising from their tables. I stared down at them through the gaps of the student. They seemed to be divided by colour, each table on its own, green beside blue, next to yellow and then red. So much for houses not meaning anything. Catcalls and jeering were being passed between the tables, even between the red table and the green table.

Behind them was a table full of adults gazing loftily, at its head was the epitome of what a wizard should look like, a long snow white beard garbed in a rich purple robe with emblazoned in stars and moons. On one side was an empty seat, presumably Professor McGonagall's and on the other a very short man, perhaps a dwarf in blue robes chattering excitedly. There was a dreary young man with hooked nose and a woman who looked like a better class of pirate and half a dozen others, murmuring as they evaluated us.

Standing discreetly to the side was Professor McGonagall holding a scroll in both hands. "When I read your name you will sit on the stool and put on the hat to be sorted. Don't be nervous, you will be a tribute to whichever one you join. Now," she paused momentarily, smiling benevolently and no longer looking like a librarian of piss and vinegar. "Able, Steven."

Somewhere to the left a twig of a boy pushed through the other kids and padded over reluctantly. He paused before the stool, maybe looking for instructions before lowering himself on it and sat the hat on his head. The Sorting Hat shuffled, like a cat circling to be comfortable on a doona. The brim bent, and – "HUFFLEPUFF!"

Cheers erupted from the yellow table, the working class as the black satin that framed his collar and hems melted into a canary yellow and a portly ghost in a monk's habit patted his shoulder. He held up his sleeve marvelling at it with just a hint of disappointment.

"Astrid, Belinda!"

A copper hair girl scampered across the stage. As the hat slipped over her ears the hat cried, "RAVENCLAW!"

As the list was read, Todd Auld joined Ravenclaw as well while Ida Avernus became the first Gryffindor to a mighty roar from her new house followed shortly by Candace Beutel. Alice Babel, kept Steven company in Hufflepuff. Treasure Bole became the first Slytherin. I was enjoying the atmosphere thoroughly, despite all the loud noise. It was contagious! I whistle and shouted with each student.

"Bottlewot, Algernon!"

The whistle died on my lips as I let out a choked hiss. It was Shorty! As he squeezed past a sharp nudge from Leo kept me from stamping down on his robe and watching him smash his nose on the steps. Then we'd be a matching pair! As the hat dropped onto his head it, Shorty looked smug and certain that it would cry- "SLYTHERIN!" He tossed the hat disdainfully back onto the stool and joined his housemates.

"Brize, Viridante!" called Professor McGonagall, looking scandalised that a student would be so blatantly disrespectful. Already waiting quietly at the front, the boy who had dragged Leo to the boat settled onto the stool, he set the hat on his head with a cool look across the crowd still crowing over their own additions. Having witnessed him jumping into frigid water to rescue a couple of idiots from a giant squid, I had him picked for Gryffindor but as the Hat shifted with an inner debate, its beetle eyes widened and emerald green spread across his collar. "SLYTHERIN!"

A Bruce followed, and then Cardigan, Carmine, Doldrum and Edgar. One by one they were sorted amongst the houses seemingly at random until another familiar face crossed the stage. "Fiddleback, Andrea," the Giraffe. She was even stranger to look at in the bright but ever flowing candlelight. She skipped passed us and up the steps, flicking a contemptuous at me as she passed. Ever the witty one, I poked out my tongue.

She squashed the hat onto her head lowering herself onto the stool like a queen. She bestowed her 'subjects' a look of pure confidence. She cocked her head as if listening to an inner voice and slowly drained of colour. I smirked with satisfaction. _Maybe it's seen what a brat she is and is slowly sucking her brain out through her ears!_ I thought cheerfully.

Her mouth moved as she spoke in an inaudible whisper. She listened again and her voice came in hoarse disbelief. "I'm not!"

"Are," rasped the Sorting Hat indifferently as yellow ate away at her black satin like bacteria on an agar. Murmurs and giggles were blossoming over the hall. "HUFFLE-"

"I don't belong in Hufflepuff, you _steeeew-pid_ _bonnet!_ I am Slytherin!"

Finally, she ripped the hat of her head and stared at it furiously. "I don't belong in Hufflepuff you stupid hat! Put me in Slytherin! I belong in Slytherin! I deserve to be in Slytherin! I AM PURE-BLOODED!"

Unable to speak telepathically now, it admonished crisply, "No you aren't. Your grandmother was a halfblood, but it matters not. You are most definitely a HUFFLEPUFF!"

"I DON'T CARE! LET ME IN!" she squealed at it like a neurotic piglet, her freckled face turning a brute red.

"No."

Beside me Leo snorted into his sleeve but ended up chuckling aloud while I stared in open mouth delight. Professor McGonagall quickly guided Andrea offstage, almost in tears, and lowering her gently into a Hufflepuff seat. Too exhausted and shocked to argue, her anger deflated like a torn balloon, sinking into a despondent puddle on the table. I felt my inside churn as the next boy put the hat on, unable to take my eyes of Andrea, the smirk dwindled away.

Don't get me wrong, I still thought she was an uppity, prejudiced giraffe, but there's something about someone unable to see they're humiliating themselves that makes you cringe and feel sorry for them. As I continued to glimpse her through the waves of heads and hands, a senior Hufflepuff tried to comfort her, offering a goblet of refreshment and a napkin to wipe away her tears. Andrea's lips drew into a grimace and she snapped at her, shoving the glass back and splashing it across the senior's chest.

I shook my head pityingly and only just realised Leo's name had been called. The assembly still cheered as Phoebe Hecaet joined Gryffindor, but it was more subdued. Kids kept stealing looks at Andrea.

He winked at me as he left and climbed onto the stage. He held the Hat for a moment, as if feeling the weight of ages before setting it on his head and perched on the stool. The audience waited and waited for the hat to decide but Leo Helious still remained perfectly patient.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

His body went lax with great relief, and then skipped down the stairs to be swamped beneath handshakes and congratulations of his other housemates.

Names went past in a blur again. Inglewood, Izar, Jackson and Kambridge.

"Kendrick, Maree!"

"Maree?" asked Felix quizzically as I ascended. Unable to reply I shrugged and lifted the hat from the stool. Its crinkled brim was scarred with stitches and the stench of leather and felt floated up from it as it regarded me beneath a heavy fold that gave the illusion of eyebrows. Without thinking I turned it over and reached inside, feeling around for secret compartments. "No rabbit?" I asked Professor McGonagall who returned the look impatiently. Giggles scattered across crowd and the head of the adult table gave a pleased chuckle.

Finally I donned the hat, only just kept from slipping to my shoulders by the thick fuzz of my ponytail.

There was a feeling like tendrils sinking into my brain and an itchy voice spoke. "Aha! No contest. You are a Ravenclaw!"

My lip curled incredulously. _The smart guys?__ Are you joshing? I absorb knowledge like a sponge!_

"You're point being."

_When did you last see a marine animal with a PHD?_

It bridled. "Ravenclaw is not about being intelligent, it's about those who seek to know! A thirst for knowledge! The irresistible lure of puzzle or riddle!"

_I like riddles,_ I conceded reluctantly. _Not Hufflepuff?_ What was I, stupid? I didn't want to be with that homicidal cow!

"No, you haven't the loyalty."

_What,__ and Andrea does?_ I sneered.

"Oh yes, there are many kinds of loyalty," it said cryptically. "And I now pronounce you- RAVENCLAW!"

I grasped the satin sleeve hem, gleaming as it grew lighter and lighter, eventually becoming blue. I still stared at is as my feet blindly felt for the steps and hustled by Ravenclaw hands into a seat. I sat down heavily, feeding the hem through my fingers, distantly hearing the cheer of the Gryffindor Table. I was a smartypants, huh? Somehow this outstripped a talking mirror and a magic wand on the freaky crap scale.

"Mareeeee!" Suddenly arms wrapped around my waist in a tight hug. My eyes bulged and my air whooshed from my nose in a snort. Relinquishing me from her grasp as I struggled like a hooked fish, Anjuli plumped down beside me! "Isn't this great! Now we can do all our classes together. We can be studybuddies!"

My mouth opened and shut, looking more like a fish than ever. Unfortunately I was saved by the addition of Ingrid Stew. While the two squealed and giggled I took the opportunity to scramble under the table and shuffle down to the end. I may have been under the scrutiny of a rabble of adults, but at least I wasn't next to Anjuli.

"Tybault, Felix!" My ears pricked and I watched keenly as she climbed the stairs. I prayed over and over for her to Ravenclaw. The hat perched on her head for less than two seconds when it cried out- "Slytherin!"

My pent up air escaped in a sigh of disappointment. As she passed me she rolled her eyes and shrugged, joining Viridante at the Slytherin table. Sighing again I rested my head in my hands and peered down the table. The eight other new members of Ravenclaw clustered around Anjuli, nattering. This year was going to be hell.

"Tybault, Kalchas!"

My head jerked in surprise as Kalchas was guided up the steps by his, and evidently Felix's triplet brother! He sat down distractedly and placed the hat on his head. While it inwardly ummed and ahhed he opened his mouth. "Ravenclaw."

Murmurs rippled over the audience again and the Hat confirmed it. "RAVENCLAW!"

"Yeah! Whoot! Whistle!" I screamed loudly, waving madly for Kalchas to catch his attention. Frozen on the steps, his brother's eyes followed him down the aisle, struck dumb by horror. Behind me, Felix leaned backwards and said out of the corner of her mouth with amusement. "Whistle? Who says whistle?" I wiggled my eyebrows and moved over to seat Kalchas.

"Time to go marauding!"

"You said it mate!" I said, still swelled with relief.

"RAVENCLAW!"

On the stage Sebastian set the hat down reverently and then all but cleared the steps in a single jump in his hurry to reach Kalchas and I. He paused time enough to favour me with a disapproving glare, and then squeezed between us.

"Hey, chill mate!" I said, holding my hands up in surrender, but he still continued to stare at me like I was something on his shoe.

Finally the sorting drew to a close with "Zander, Bronson" drawing the lot of Hufflepuff, dressed in a robe even more scruffy than my own. The cheers died away and the head of the adults table stood up, stroking his almost incandescent white beard.

"Welcome to the new year at Hogwarts!" he chuckled, holding up a goblet. "I least of all want to keep you from the succulent feast Mrs Weatherbee and her staff have prepared," he paused and raised a glass to some generously proportioned women at the back of the hall, "Firstly, there will be no magic in the halls between classes, our elder years should know that already it never hurts to be reminded. Secondly, all students are to keep away from the Forbidden Forest, no exceptions. There are many things there that will do you harm that not even the most experienced student can fend off. And lastly, Mr Filch, our caretaker, has asked me to prompt your memory. The list of banned items in the school now extends to Biting Blotters, Irremovable Face paint and Go-Bald Shaving Cream. Thank you for coming and I hope you enjoy your year. And my new practitioners of magic, always remember! There is no history of anything until it happens. Then there is!"

With the final exclamation heaps, no piles! No _cathedrals_ of food suddenly materialised on the plates in front of us. I mean, everyone told me European food was rubbish and after two meals I would long for the anonymousy of a meat pie, but this was a meal! There was roast chicken, roast pork, roast lamb, peas, corn, carrots, three kinds of soup, five kinds of potato, punch, four kinds of juice just what were in the immediate vicinity. Suddenly realising the only food I'd had since breaky was a couple of chocolates, my tastebuds were caught in a flash flood.

Stacking a pyramid of roast meat and potatoes on my plate, I leaned across Sebastian. "Is he one of those teachers who try to be funny?"

Kalchas shook his head. "Don't suffer insanity, enjoy every minute of it."

"Good call," I agreed. It was probably a subtle way of saying he was nuttier than my nanna's fruitcake with the adults so close. Looking over the heads, clutching a greasy chicken leg I caught Leo's eye. He was a very happy chappy, almost dwarfed by his plate. He smiled, unruffled by the clatter of knives and forks around him, and then went back to his mound. Drifting slowly through the table was another silvery ghost, nothing like Peeves. Still, the fork hung halfway between my mouth and the plate as I watched her guardedly.

Sensing my wariness she pulled up a pew on a leg of pork, unmindful of the ravenous hands passing through her. "Salutations child," she purred, clad all in grey.

"_You're_ not going to attack me, are you?"

"Don't be stupid," Sebastian said, sawing delicately through carrot. The boy was un_real!_ Surrounded by an enormous banquet, he still chewed fastidiously through a balanced meal. Luckily I was in good company with Kalchas, who had more food around his mouth than in it. Any cutlery beginning the treacherous journey from plate to mouth had a 50/50 chance of safely reaching its destination. "She's the Grey Lady, head ghost of Ravenclaw, an intellectual woman tried to rise up against King Bolton and sentenced to death."

The Grey Lady sniffed. "One mistake, some people are _soooo_ unforgiving. And I see _you_ have met Peeves. No one likes Peeves, _soooo_ unrefined. You should avoid him in all ways possible. Good evening." She fluttered a hand and glided back up the table.

Desert appeared a few minutes later in the same twinkling fashion, a smorgasbord of sweets and cakes. Why oh why did I fill up on potatoes? Unfortunately there wasn't a lot of room left so I sufficed with three bowls of trifle.

"You two are disgusting," said Sebastian with revulsion squashed between two children with rings around their mouths and crumbs down their front. I rubbed a napkin around my mouth and Kalchas mimicked me.

"Is everyone happy?" called a girl at the head of the table with a shiny badge pinned to her chest. "I'm Calligrapha, Headgirl of Ravenclaw and this is Matthew, Headboy. It is time to take you to your living quarters!"


End file.
